oided the subject, but
everyone felt the dampening effect.

That night, before I retired to my room, I took a lantern, went out to
the kennels and brought in Princep, a pure-bred Irish setter. He was a
dog of exceptional intelligence, and when I spoke to him, explaining the
reason of his presence indoors, he seemed to know instinctively what was
required of him.

As I passed the study I noticed a light coming from under the door.
Somewhat surprised, I turned the handle and looked in. My uncle was
seated before his desk in the act of loading a revolver. He glanced up
sharply as I entered.

"Oh, it's you, is it? Got the dog in?"

"Yes," I replied, "I've left him in the library with the door open."

He regarded the revolver pensively for a few moments, then laid it down
in front of him.

"You've no theory as to this--this business?"

I shook my head, I could offer no explanation. Yet all the while there
lurked, deep down in my heart, a hideous suspicion, a suspicion so
monstrous that had I voiced it, I should probably have been considered
mad. And so I held my peace on the subject and merely wished my uncle
good-night.

It was about one o'clock when I got into bed, but my brain was far too
agitated for sleep. Something I had heard years ago, some old wives'
tales about a man's life changing every seven years, kept dinning in my
head. I was striving to remember how the story went, when a slight sound
outside caught my ear. In a second I was out of bed and had silently
opened the door. As I did so, someone passed close by me down the
corridor.

Cautiously, with beating heart, I crept out and followed. However, I
almost exclaimed aloud in my amazement, for the light from a window fell
full on the figure ahead of me, and I recognised my cousin Ethne. She
was sleep-walking, a habit she had had from her childhood, and which
apparently she had never outgrown.

For some minutes I stood there, undecided how to act, while she passed
on down the stairs, out of sight. To wake her I knew would be wrong. I
knew, also, that she had walked thus a score of times without coming to
any harm. There was, therefore, no reason why I should not return to my
room and leave her to her wandering, yet still I remained rooted to the
spot, all my senses strained, alert. And then suddenly I heard Princep
whine. A series of low, stertorous growls followed, growls that made my
blood run cold! With swift, noiseless steps, I stole along to the